if you were ever to follow the ashes conundrum
between england and australia...
you would be forgiven to forget the euphoria
surrounding england winning the cricket
world cup... watching the ashes:
it's like it never bloody happened!
well... india gained its indepedence in
1947... zimbabwe gained theirs in...
1980...
the ashes? they go back as far back as...
1882!
basically: convicts versus the Liberace
liberterians grand clown mobil(e)!
who won the cricket world cup in 2019?
england? are you sure?!
ask 'em again: who won the 2019
ashes... then they'll tell you...
when they have won it...
australians care as much as the english
care about winning the world cup...
as i might care:
whether it's a sunday and i'm
about to begin the day with a dublin coffee!
fuck's sake... anyone catching on?
oh i speak the language...
but am i... prone to entertain...
post-colonial white-associate gimmicks?
my, POE-LACK... credentials?
what?! my colonialism under the prussians,
the russians or the fucking habsburgs?!
even in asia they clarify themselves:
we're not all geisha fuckers,
i.e. japanese...
they're the bloody nazis of asia...
ask any asian, even the billionth mandarin...
who sees themselves as the master race?
if they don't reply: the japanese...
you have a spy on a leash...
the funniest contrast comes when...
when... ah ha ha... you visit africa...
me, kenya... god can i curse the humid heat...
one jump into the indian ocean...
i land my right hand into a protruding
coral pseudo-phallus....
i get stiched up...
ha ha... a mere memory...
the pirate pink-assed macaroon baboon...
the hive of talking points at night
in a tree by the macaques...
fables of snakes... before they would
end up becoming dragons...
mind you...
how did we serve up a knowledge of
dinosaurs... having first arrived
at dragons... when no remnants of large
lizards were handy?
i was fine... in africa...
i talked with the kenyans about imported
timber from ghana over a coffee
and brandy...
but imagine if a african-h'american were
to visit africa...
i can imagine the shock:
the dialogue would end quickly...
it would follow the following:
so why do i descend from slaves...
and you, don't?
i can imagine the shock...
of an african-american meeting an african...
who, "somehow" didn't make it
onto the slave ship...
harsh reality... it really does bite...
it would appear from the narrative...
that... a. the zulus were too proud
a people... and that's where the comic
myth of black panther comes from...
Battle of Isandlwana...
because... oh no no...
no tribe leader didn't just sell off
his more work-able and most naive
to the traders...
that would have never happened!
it's a running joke in slavic communities...
even the germanic people try
to ascribe the same status...
we who would become the industrial
niggers...
or that we were already slaves...
i.e. slavs... of the medieval periods...
in their language...
never mind: słowianin (slav) has
the etymological root: -słowo
i.e. word... the rest can remain: smith...
worsmith...
there's that.... or we perhaps have
the best pussy a sheikh will ever buy /
marry - i don't mind this trench
of clit - perhaps the map of the spread
of the bubonic plague resembles
the map of islamic terrorism strikes...
which leaves... Poland... out of the equation...
what colonial past?
perhaps you should ask
the ukranians...
why they instigated the
quasi-civil war that ensured
the polish-lithuanian commonwealth
was disintegrated under the three factions
that sought to befit their empire riddle
ambitions...
are we all, kin?
i'd love to see an african-american
come face to face with an african,
who wasn't sold into slavery,
maybe then they can learn
to abhor their, "original" captors...
i.e. why were my ancestors sold into
the trade... why didn't T'Challa save us...
poor poor n.b.a. work horses?
i visited Kenya...
you know what i found?
a proud people...
i didn't want them entertaining me...
i stuck to my coffee, brandy,
shade and the macaques talking me
into a lullaby... who the fuck goes to africa
and forgets to treat the monkeys
like one might treat crows of europe?
sorry, what?! i'm here for the monkeys...
the kenyans can do what
european tourists require...
leave me alone...
tend to them as you might
a zoological specimen of sorts...
let me sit alone at night crying
while admiring the indian ocean
fucking the african coast...
as i did... i suppose an afro-american of
africa would not be... exactly:
t.o.t.o.... just like i feel when i visit
my grandparents...
sucked up by the en masse...
no longer the protected specimen...
no longer the minority...
shit... what an awful feeling...
quick! escape the hive of a major
urban environment... head into
the outskirts! ah... settled...
the boy they one thought they knew...
but i can only imagine
what an afro-saxon would feel
when visiting africa:
not so special... are we?
there's this burning nausea...
a sickness that only arrives with
a consciousness when
you are part of the cocktail...
then thrown back into
the monolith...
something will irritate you...
someone will itch at you...
and you will never place
the concrete symptoms on
something blatantly obvious...
i have been delt a devil's hand...
oh... hush hush darling...
that's harsh... i've been dealt a pontius
pilate's poker face...
what colonialism?
those h'american history go as far
back as an origin in either england /
france / spain?
no... german origin?
no... wouldn't you believe it!
there are more polacks living in Chicago
than living in Warsaw?!
oh yeah... the ratio is... 3mil approx.
in the former... half a mil (approx.)
in the latter...
6:3...
2:1... shit... that's wrong...
1:6... who needs smart
when you have the: poetry of concrete
and the fiasco of of the breaking of
Ponte Morandi...

ich nicht werden sein:
schleppen - im zu deises blödsinnkuhscheiße:
bollocks-bullshit!

i'm not going to cater to masochists!
ich kam von unter die eisenvorhang...
ich nicht werden schmücken mein-selb
im entweder ein niqab nor eine siliziumschlacke!

i have as many colonial credentials
as a dane might have...
settling in iceland...
or settling in grünland -
very much... greeeeeeen...
beneath the ice...

if it had to come to this...
then i will speak german...
because... god i have such a fetish for it
and speaking english only leaves
me with the alternative of being at best:
a tourist.

nonetheless... watch the cricket...
you've love to suppose that england won
the world cup... a month ago...
no... no... they're english...
they won the world cup having won it
against teams like... afghanistan...
sri lanka.... bangladesh...
they "won" the world cup...
but they're playing the ashes right now...
they didn't win the world cup...
they had a yawn and then thought:
perhaps we did...
now that they're playing the ashes...
they're playing cricket... proper...

mittagessen und tee!
fünfzig übers?! das ist es?!
a bunch of dilettantes!

take pride... from what you can salvage
in what others require to be:
the mere ashes of shame...
i'm pretty sure i can...
muster up some remnant pride...
base question...
star anise / liquirice...
or... marmite?
is this... what you would call...
integration into a loan lingo...
into a host culture? is it?! is it?! is, it?!